


"You're Freezing"

by FizzyHedgehog



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Meet-Cute, Original Character(s), mlm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:41:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28951356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FizzyHedgehog/pseuds/FizzyHedgehog
Summary: A drabble based on a prompt sent to me via Tumblr. Original characters and story. Finn x Mint meet-cute.POV: Finn
Relationships: Finn/Mint
Kudos: 2





	"You're Freezing"

There’s nothing like an afternoon ride to burn some energy. The hot New Orleans sun's beating down on the crowds, and my skin is turning sticky with sweat. After almost running into someone for the third time, I pick up my skateboard and start to slink home. Maybe I could get a night ride in, though if it’s crowded now it would only get worse once all the bars were open. 

I sigh, trying to wipe some of the sweat off my forehead with my free hand. This place really sucks sometimes. I like the city, I really do, but I wish there was a nice place I could skate without anyone around that wasn’t just the driveway. I also wish there wasn’t a portal to the Otherworld in our backyard. What can I say, I’m a dreamer. 

I groan out of boredom before my mind starts to wonder about Fate. She definitely singled me out last time I saw her. Nothing makes you want to go about your days normally _less_ than a notoriously-sneaky Deity telling you to. Is something I do here likely to change everything? What if I get hurt? Am I not supposed to go on our next mission? What if I die at some point? Well, everyone dies at _some point_ , but-

My train of thought is derailed when I run into someone head-on. They grunt out some insult, I stammer out some apology, and dart into an alley to move out of the way. It’s dark and shady and cool. I let out a sigh and drop my board. I bet I could skate home if I take the alleyways; they’re long and connected and, best of all, _empty_.

I ride for about fifteen minutes of pure bliss, with my brain mostly focused on imitating car noises. Oh, shit, am I making them out loud? No, phew, I was just humming. I stop. And then I hear a sound- one closer than the crowds on the street. I dismount my board and look around. I normally wouldn’t bother, but over time I realize I’m starting to become more and more paranoid. I whip my head around. Nothing. Not even a rat skittering by. I knew it, I’m starting to lose it. I turn back around and place my foot on the board, rolling it back and forth. Maybe I should bring this up in my next therapy session. 

I look up again and am immediately scared shitless. There’s a hand over my mouth. There’s a person in front of me. A person with his hand over my mouth. I try to push it away. If I could just talk, if I could just use my powers, I could make it home easy. His hand doesn’t budge an inch. No no no, fuck, that’s impossible! Paris said I’m the strongest type of fae, even as a part mortal I should be able to-

Bam- I take a punch. I didn’t even see it coming. I’m thinking too much. I’m not thinking fast enough. It hurts to breathe. He must’ve punched me in the sternum. Is that the right place? Like, is that what it’s called? It doesn’t matter. I muster all my strength and kick him. _Hard_. I wish he’d have gone flying, but stumbling back a bit is good I guess. 

I try to speak, to spit out some kind of command, but I can’t breathe. I just wheeze. He comes back, and I take a few more hits, and get a few in myself. This is what Fate was planning. It _had_ to be. I was going to die here, or be captured, here in this goddamned alleyway that I shouldn’t have fucking been in anyway, all because I was hot and bored and-

The person stops, a look of anguish on his face. I had just landed a weak punch, surely that couldn’t have been what did him in. I stare, frozen, as he collapses. Just like that. What the hell?

“Hey man, are you okay?” an unfamiliar voice asks. I look up and my heart skips a beat. There’s a beautiful boy running up to me. Dark brown skin, short, messy, black curls that stand up on his scalp in a temple fade. I swallow hard and nod instead of using my words. (All the better; I have the urge to blurt out how handsome he is.) (That would _probably_ be off-putting for a stranger.)

He offers me a hand. I take it. Damn, it’s so comfortable, my palm fits perfectly into his. What the hell is happening?!

“I saw a fight, it looked like he was totally going to kill you. I was going to see if you needed help, but then- bam! You totally knocked him out!” He talks with a grin. I’m not sure why he’s recapping. His voice sounds shaky, he seems unsure. Like he’s not convinced that’s what happened. And, truth be told, I’m not that convinced either. It was a _really weak_ punch. (He hasn’t made any move to pull me up yet.) (Should I just stay like this?)

“Yeah, I guess it was the adrenaline rush, ya’ know?” I chuckle. (I’m probably overthinking it.)

“Yeah, yeah!” He’s still nervous. Maybe he can sense _I’m_ nervous. “My name’s Mitchell, by the way, but most people call me Mint.” He finally tugs on my arm. I rise to my feet, and there’s a moment where we’re just standing there, holding hands. I feel a prick of chill on his fingers, and he immediately pulls away, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. 

“Why Mint?” I finally ask. 

“Oh, right, my baby cousin couldn’t say ‘Mitchell’ right, and it kinda stuck. Are you sure you’re okay?” I realize I’m wobbling. The sore pain is starting to set in. Maybe adrenaline really _was_ a factor, after all. 

“I’m good...I’m just going to sit down.”

“Here, let me…” Mint takes my arm and helps me down. 

“You’re freezing,” I blurt out. He gives me a confused look. But it’s true. His arms feel like ice. (And I’m still all sweaty.) (How embarrassing.) “Your arm,” I clarify. “Are _you_ okay?”

Oh god, he looks more nervous than before. I should shut up. Maybe make a joke, try to lighten the mood. Then, suddenly, I have a revelation. 

“Wait, you’re a fae, aren't you?”

The words just come out, completely inconsiderate of what I was asking. Mint lets out a soft sigh. “Yeah,” he finally agrees. “Part.”

I give him a reassuring smile. “Me too.” Shit, I probably shouldn’t have admitted that. I can just picture Tristan pulling his hair out. But Mint’s uneasiness fades, at least from his expression. “What’d you do to him, anyway?” I motion towards the still unconscious attacker. 

“Nothing he won’t recover from.” He pulls out his phone. “Meaning I should probably call an ambulance. Do you need to go to the hospital too, or are you good?”

“Nah, I’m good, it’s nothing I can’t sleep off.” He smiles at me and pulls out a marker. 

“I’m sure.” He starts to write something on my arm. I don’t stop him. He sticks his tongue out as he writes. It’s adorable. “But I’m part of the Nurse Training Program here in New Orleans. So if, for some reason, you can’t just ‘sleep it off’, let me know.” He caps his marker. 

I glance at my arm and feel myself flush. It was his phone number. 

“Oh, thanks!” I stammer. I can’t hide my grin. I push myself up, and he does too.

“You should go home and rest, I can explain all this to the medics.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm, doctor’s orders.”

“I thought you were a nurse,” I raise my eyebrows. 

“How _dare!_ ” he gasps, failing to hide a laugh.

“A nurse _trainee_.”

“A nurse trainee who just saved your butt, thank you very much.” I chuckle as I hope on my skateboard.

“No, thank _you_ very much,” I say, giving him a genuine smile before kicking off.

“Wait!” He calls out after a few moments. I’ve already made it a decent distance. “I never got your name!”

“It’s Finn!” I yell back, turning towards him and cupping my hands around my mouth. He gives me a thumbs up. (At least, I think it’s a thumbs up.) (He’s pretty far away.) I turn back around after I almost run into a trashcan, and continue heading home.


End file.
